Post by alycestarchylde on Jan 19, 2018 14:25:37 GMT -5
It has been so long...in many ways it's like coming home.
Forgive the harlequin's outfit and the featureless red mask but I am the Royal Court Jester and these are my accouterments. Behind the wheel of a Buick Roadmaster Wagon that's almost twenty years old and it's paint job looks it...but man, does it's engine purr. That would be thanks to my buddy the Royal Executioner...the man's a genius with anything mechanical...as well as most weapons...and how to use his fists. I tool through the less pretty sections of Los Angeles when I see a couple of gentlemen standing at a bus stop. I smile as I pull over. How are terrorists and cancer alike? They both hang out in cells and are looking to grow.
JESTER: Pardon me, gentlemen...I see you are looking to take a public conveyance to your destination. I will get you to the same place for free without all the tedious starting and stopping for suckers who have bus fare.
GUY #1: Uh...we aren't gay.
JESTER: Well, in today's world such things no longer carry a stigma...or at least we all pretend that they do not. That being said, I offer you a ride and conversation...nothing more.
GUY #2: Well, in that case, alright.
They slide into the seat behind me. One of them has what I can only call the face of a serial killer. He has a dead eyed stare, his voice is creepy and he is heavily muscled. The other has a face that looks like he had a near terminal case of acne once upon a time, he is thinner but his eyes are more hungry...the same way a junkie's eyes are hungry. How are wolves like crazy people? We can smell our own.
GUY #1: What's your name?
GUY #2: Why are you dressed like that?
JESTER: It's for work. Now tell me, what are you two gentlemen doing today.
GUY#1: Well, we thought we would go and knock over a liquor store.
GUY #2: Yeah, man, people are weak...we take what we want!
JESTER: What an interesting idea? What would you two say if I told you that society breeds weakness?
GUY #1: Maybe...I'd be interested in hearing more.
JESTER: Well think about it for a moment. This modern society...everyone is on a computer or a cell phone. Cut them off from it and what can they do? If they found themselves in a blizzard in the wilderness...would they survive? If they were cut off from wi-fi and alone on the street...could they survive? And if so, for how long? I mean...truly society breeds weakness these days.
GUY #2: I never thought about it that way.
JESTER: That's not surprising.
I savored his stare in the mirror. I let him stew in my insult to his intelligence. Sometimes, being a jester is like being your newspaper...it's your job to tell it the way it is.
JESTER: I mean, society goes out of it's way to throw wealth in the face of those that don't have it. Sort of makes it hard to think critically.
His features soften, but only just.
JESTER: You see gentlemen, if you don't mind me waxing a tiny bit philosophic on the subject, I firmly believe that it is time for a New Order to arise...an order with a powerful, charismatic and bloodthirsty leader...someone...
They both look forward as I pause. Suckers.
JESTER: Well someone like you, I suppose.
I nod towards the first guy and he straightens up proudly.
JESTER: And that leader should commit a series of crimes, always punctuated by a knife murder at the end of each crime and he should call himself the Night Slasher! And he should gather together an army of the strong and that army should stalk the night and take what they want! And as the New Order grows they will REMAKE SOCIETY IN THEIR IMAGE!
Guy #1 was sitting at attention, his friend beside him equally attentive but sitting back from his friend. Physically acknowledging his friend as the Alpha...something I'd known from the moment I'd spotted them at the bus stop.
GUY #1: What โ what a great idea!
He turns to his friend.
GUY #1: You'd be a fucking hunter!
GUY #2: I'm a fucking hunter!
I see a liquor store and I pull up.
JESTER: This okay?
GUY #1 Oh yeah!
JESTER: I have some party favors there in the back, take some and have a great life.
The two men reached into the back seat. The first guy took some handguns and knives. The second guy took a shotgun.
They were talking excitedly as they exited the car.
GUY #1: Maybe you should hit a grocery store later!
GUY #2: Yeah, man!
They stepped out of the wagon as a car goes flying by on the other side. I turn and right on it's tale is another car...a 1950ish Mercury Monterrey...god damn asshole. Some people got to ruin it for everyone else.
The moral of the story? Is that what you need to make this all okay? Well how about this: Crazy, violent people are just like bird mites...we are always waiting in the wings!
The Royal Jester kneels in front of Alyce's throne...even without Alyce in it, he squats to the left of the throne. He rises and (presumably, since he wears a featureless red mask) looks into the camera and starts to speak.
And our queen commands that this shall be a most Regal Rumble. In short, the Queen is winning this one and frankly, if you have any objections to this you need to make your peace with the fact that those objections don't matter. We will keep our queen in this match even if we have to sacrifice ourselves to do it.
Now, there are the perennial also-rans. Guys who don't have a PRAYER of winning this match. It is impolite to mention them by name but then again no one has ever accused me of being overly polite.
Erik Josten (and sir, I know you much better than you probably think I do), Silence, The Sentinel, Luke Riggs, Dustin Holt, and the Mystery Contestants Three. Not one of you has any real hope of winning this match and really, you should just come to the ring and eliminate yourselves. Or, step in front of our fists and let us eliminate you. We do enjoy our violence. #sadists
Andy Johnson? Please. Daddy's little whelp has about as much shot of winning this as Cable does of leaving food at a buffet. Not to mention, Page has a little something for you...and while I have not always seen eye to eye with Page...the man is double tough and when he is determined...there is no stopping him.
Chris Page? This Rumble will be Regal. You know that's the deal. But we have a gentlemen's agreement to let it come down between you and Alyce...and frankly, my money is on her. You are as tough as they come, but she is a miracle worker.
FuZz? Are you kidding me? Maybe back in XWF you were something. These days... you are off your game. The last time you were here you frankly underwhelmed. I expect so much less of your current tenure. You always have been Page's bitch. You will be again, if he isn't busy. These days, you are his light work and he may well have the flunkies deal with you. That happens, I am going to try to break your nose...that's a promise.
Simon Jacobs? Who the fuck are you? Seriously? Who are you and what have you done? Here's a hint...probably not winning.
My royal brethren and I are merely an insurance policy...we aren't planning on winning...as far as anyone knows. Who knows? Maybe we'll change our mind? The future. Who can tell? How is the future like a mass shooter? No one sees what's coming.
John Gambino? The Monster Silence is looking forward to fighting you. The Executioner thinks you are a lame fucking goombah and wants to see you burn. Literally. He wants to set you on fire. Not sure why. Not sure I care. Your chances of getting your ass beat by the Executioner...pretty good. Your chances of winning the West Coast Rumble...negligible at best.
K-Remix? Swag King huh? Well you AREN'T the Mad King and he has decreed that Alyce or Page walks away with this one so you are just going to have to suck somewhere else. We are going to make sure of it.
The Monster Silence? So are there two Silences...or did you get entered twice? Hoping it's the latter. Mostly because it will be fun hurling your dumb titanium-kneed ass out the ring...twice. I saw your promo man...dear God how can you live in a brain that tiny?
Black Death? Ooooh! Scary name! I'm gonna call my left fist 'Rodney' and use it to punch the taste out of your mouth. You are an also-ran in training...I guarantee it.
And Chris Dorling? Dorling? What the fuck is a dorling? Sounds like a door for midgets. I fucking hate midgets. I'm gonna kick your ass on general principle.
Look kids, it's the West Coast Rumble. It's that time of year where we share brotherly love by punching one another in the mouth. And I have a lot of brotherly love to share. And I am willing to make sure not one of you fucks wins this...and either Chris Page and Alyce Starchylde do. Either that...or I am lying and I am going to emerge as your winner of the West Coast Rumble. How am I like skin spots around your genitals? We'll always keep you guessing.
Forgive the harlequin's outfit and the featureless red mask but I am the Royal Court Jester and these are my accouterments. Behind the wheel of a Buick Roadmaster Wagon that's almost twenty years old and it's paint job looks it...but man, does it's engine purr. That would be thanks to my buddy the Royal Executioner...the man's a genius with anything mechanical...as well as most weapons...and how to use his fists. I tool through the less pretty sections of Los Angeles when I see a couple of gentlemen standing at a bus stop. I smile as I pull over. How are terrorists and cancer alike? They both hang out in cells and are looking to grow.
JESTER: Pardon me, gentlemen...I see you are looking to take a public conveyance to your destination. I will get you to the same place for free without all the tedious starting and stopping for suckers who have bus fare.
GUY #1: Uh...we aren't gay.
JESTER: Well, in today's world such things no longer carry a stigma...or at least we all pretend that they do not. That being said, I offer you a ride and conversation...nothing more.
GUY #2: Well, in that case, alright.
They slide into the seat behind me. One of them has what I can only call the face of a serial killer. He has a dead eyed stare, his voice is creepy and he is heavily muscled. The other has a face that looks like he had a near terminal case of acne once upon a time, he is thinner but his eyes are more hungry...the same way a junkie's eyes are hungry. How are wolves like crazy people? We can smell our own.
GUY #1: What's your name?
GUY #2: Why are you dressed like that?
JESTER: It's for work. Now tell me, what are you two gentlemen doing today.
GUY#1: Well, we thought we would go and knock over a liquor store.
GUY #2: Yeah, man, people are weak...we take what we want!
JESTER: What an interesting idea? What would you two say if I told you that society breeds weakness?
GUY #1: Maybe...I'd be interested in hearing more.
JESTER: Well think about it for a moment. This modern society...everyone is on a computer or a cell phone. Cut them off from it and what can they do? If they found themselves in a blizzard in the wilderness...would they survive? If they were cut off from wi-fi and alone on the street...could they survive? And if so, for how long? I mean...truly society breeds weakness these days.
GUY #2: I never thought about it that way.
JESTER: That's not surprising.
I savored his stare in the mirror. I let him stew in my insult to his intelligence. Sometimes, being a jester is like being your newspaper...it's your job to tell it the way it is.
JESTER: I mean, society goes out of it's way to throw wealth in the face of those that don't have it. Sort of makes it hard to think critically.
His features soften, but only just.
JESTER: You see gentlemen, if you don't mind me waxing a tiny bit philosophic on the subject, I firmly believe that it is time for a New Order to arise...an order with a powerful, charismatic and bloodthirsty leader...someone...
They both look forward as I pause. Suckers.
JESTER: Well someone like you, I suppose.
I nod towards the first guy and he straightens up proudly.
JESTER: And that leader should commit a series of crimes, always punctuated by a knife murder at the end of each crime and he should call himself the Night Slasher! And he should gather together an army of the strong and that army should stalk the night and take what they want! And as the New Order grows they will REMAKE SOCIETY IN THEIR IMAGE!
Guy #1 was sitting at attention, his friend beside him equally attentive but sitting back from his friend. Physically acknowledging his friend as the Alpha...something I'd known from the moment I'd spotted them at the bus stop.
GUY #1: What โ what a great idea!
He turns to his friend.
GUY #1: You'd be a fucking hunter!
GUY #2: I'm a fucking hunter!
I see a liquor store and I pull up.
JESTER: This okay?
GUY #1 Oh yeah!
JESTER: I have some party favors there in the back, take some and have a great life.
The two men reached into the back seat. The first guy took some handguns and knives. The second guy took a shotgun.
They were talking excitedly as they exited the car.
GUY #1: Maybe you should hit a grocery store later!
GUY #2: Yeah, man!
They stepped out of the wagon as a car goes flying by on the other side. I turn and right on it's tale is another car...a 1950ish Mercury Monterrey...god damn asshole. Some people got to ruin it for everyone else.
The moral of the story? Is that what you need to make this all okay? Well how about this: Crazy, violent people are just like bird mites...we are always waiting in the wings!
THE JOKES ON YOU
The Royal Jester kneels in front of Alyce's throne...even without Alyce in it, he squats to the left of the throne. He rises and (presumably, since he wears a featureless red mask) looks into the camera and starts to speak.
And our queen commands that this shall be a most Regal Rumble. In short, the Queen is winning this one and frankly, if you have any objections to this you need to make your peace with the fact that those objections don't matter. We will keep our queen in this match even if we have to sacrifice ourselves to do it.
Now, there are the perennial also-rans. Guys who don't have a PRAYER of winning this match. It is impolite to mention them by name but then again no one has ever accused me of being overly polite.
Erik Josten (and sir, I know you much better than you probably think I do), Silence, The Sentinel, Luke Riggs, Dustin Holt, and the Mystery Contestants Three. Not one of you has any real hope of winning this match and really, you should just come to the ring and eliminate yourselves. Or, step in front of our fists and let us eliminate you. We do enjoy our violence. #sadists
Andy Johnson? Please. Daddy's little whelp has about as much shot of winning this as Cable does of leaving food at a buffet. Not to mention, Page has a little something for you...and while I have not always seen eye to eye with Page...the man is double tough and when he is determined...there is no stopping him.
Chris Page? This Rumble will be Regal. You know that's the deal. But we have a gentlemen's agreement to let it come down between you and Alyce...and frankly, my money is on her. You are as tough as they come, but she is a miracle worker.
FuZz? Are you kidding me? Maybe back in XWF you were something. These days... you are off your game. The last time you were here you frankly underwhelmed. I expect so much less of your current tenure. You always have been Page's bitch. You will be again, if he isn't busy. These days, you are his light work and he may well have the flunkies deal with you. That happens, I am going to try to break your nose...that's a promise.
Simon Jacobs? Who the fuck are you? Seriously? Who are you and what have you done? Here's a hint...probably not winning.
My royal brethren and I are merely an insurance policy...we aren't planning on winning...as far as anyone knows. Who knows? Maybe we'll change our mind? The future. Who can tell? How is the future like a mass shooter? No one sees what's coming.
John Gambino? The Monster Silence is looking forward to fighting you. The Executioner thinks you are a lame fucking goombah and wants to see you burn. Literally. He wants to set you on fire. Not sure why. Not sure I care. Your chances of getting your ass beat by the Executioner...pretty good. Your chances of winning the West Coast Rumble...negligible at best.
K-Remix? Swag King huh? Well you AREN'T the Mad King and he has decreed that Alyce or Page walks away with this one so you are just going to have to suck somewhere else. We are going to make sure of it.
The Monster Silence? So are there two Silences...or did you get entered twice? Hoping it's the latter. Mostly because it will be fun hurling your dumb titanium-kneed ass out the ring...twice. I saw your promo man...dear God how can you live in a brain that tiny?
Black Death? Ooooh! Scary name! I'm gonna call my left fist 'Rodney' and use it to punch the taste out of your mouth. You are an also-ran in training...I guarantee it.
And Chris Dorling? Dorling? What the fuck is a dorling? Sounds like a door for midgets. I fucking hate midgets. I'm gonna kick your ass on general principle.
Look kids, it's the West Coast Rumble. It's that time of year where we share brotherly love by punching one another in the mouth. And I have a lot of brotherly love to share. And I am willing to make sure not one of you fucks wins this...and either Chris Page and Alyce Starchylde do. Either that...or I am lying and I am going to emerge as your winner of the West Coast Rumble. How am I like skin spots around your genitals? We'll always keep you guessing.